


The Squirrel Univese

by Dolimir



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t until he was deep within Cascade’s National Park with a lost toddler cradled in his arms that he realized the squirrels had given him directions on how to find the crying child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth

Births, even spiritual ones, are often bloody, messy affairs which shake you from your warm womb of complacency and thrust you into a cold, alien environment, crying and confused. Blair was surprised to realize that he hadn’t been aware of his spiritual rebirth at the time it happened, despite it being violent and leaving him gasping in dismay.

He had seen Incacha’s passing of the mantel as a blessing, one teacher to another; maybe even as an apology, acknowledging the fact that Blair would be alone in his journey as Jim’s teacher.

Having always been teased that he was solar powered, Blair didn’t see his awareness of the outdoors in a different light. Since the sun was always something of a shy stranger in the Pacific Northwest, he viewed the clarity in which he saw the life around him as a celebration of the fact that it simply wasn’t raining.

When people started to notice his ability to predict the weather, he laughed it off and credited it to Jim’s addiction to the weather channel.

When the detectives of Major Crimes realized he hadn’t gotten lost in months, he told them that riding with Jim was making him less directionally challenged.

People coming to him with their problems really wasn’t a new occurrence, and he simply credited his _-ology_ education for his insights. After all, he was in the business of studying man.

It wasn’t until he was deep within Cascade’s National Park with a lost toddler cradled in his arms that he realized the squirrels had given him directions on how to find the crying child.

And for the life of him, he didn’t have a clue as to how he was going to break the news to Jim.


	2. So Squirrels?

Silence.

Well, he supposed it was better than ridicule.

“You’re, uh, not going to put that in the report, are you?”

“No, Jim. I’m not going to put the fact that I listened to a couple of squirrels to find a missing child in my official police report.” Blair shook his head. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. “After all, I’ve obfuscated for three years about _your_ abilities.”

Jim merely nodded, but Blair knew he hadn’t heard the last of Jim’s commentary.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Jim rubbed his tired face with one hand. The crime scene was spotless, almost as if someone had watched one too many episodes of CSI. “So, does the dog have anything useful to contribute?”

Blair tried really hard to contain his sigh. “He says his master buried a loud bone in the garden.”

Jim did a double-take.

“From his description, I’d say our murder weapon is probably under some cucumber vines.”

Jim’s eyes grew big, then without another word he walked out of the kitchen and into the backyard. The Labrador obediently followed him to the garden, then grew excited when he realized their destination. He ran ahead several steps and nosed the dirt, then looked expectantly back at them. Jim gently pushed the dog’s nose out of the way and brushed away the vines and newly turned dirt with broad sweeps of his hand. A few moments later, he reached for his pocket, withdrew a pen and held up the revolver for Blair to see.

Once the husband saw the gun, he confessed all. Jim read him his rights and had one of the patrol units take the husband down to the precinct for booking.

Silence permeated the cab as they both climbed inside truck.

“So, squirrels, huh?”

At least it was a start.


	3. A Little Rain

Jim fiddled with the defroster knob on the dash, then glanced at his watch. Blair’s lecture was supposed to let out at ten o’clock which meant his partner would soon be making a mad dash for the truck. He flipped on the windshield wipers in an attempt to get a better view of the hall’s metallic doors.

With all the rain the Northwest had been getting lately, he felt he should reconsider reviewing his ark blueprints. He swore he could feel the truck’s interior starting to mold. The thought of having to detail his car made Jim glower, but the thought of his partner doing his drowned rat impersonation was enough to lighten his mood. Knowing how hard it was for Blair to stay warm, Jim had prepared with a thermos of hot chocolate.

He looked up in time to see Blair under the tiny awning frowning at the sky and muttering something under his breath. Jim pulled the truck beside the curb and as far forward as he could. But instead of running for the truck like Jim expected, Blair took his time as he jogged down the stairs.

While the dark hindered him for a moment, Jim quickly realized that there was a circle of calm, approximately ten feet wide, which surrounded his partner. Even though the storm pounded all around him, Blair was completely dry when he reached the truck.

Blair opened the door and smiled at Jim as he climbed into the cab. “This weather isn’t fit for man or beast,” he said by way of greeting.

“Are you showing off again?”

“What?” Blair shut the door, distractedly.

“I thought you said you couldn’t mess around with the weather without serious consequences.”

“I can’t.”

Jim waved his hand to indicate the window behind Blair, which was much drier than Jim’s side window. Blair turned, frowned and wiggled his fingers ever so slightly. Rain filled the gap and beat hard against the glass.

“Oh, that,” Blair said with some embarrassment.

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, I can’t stop the storm or direct it toward Canada without considering all the possible ramifications, but a little dry spot like that won’t hurt anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“Are you as positive that no one saw you?”

“No one can possibly see a thing in this downpour,” Blair defended.

“Because you can’t just go flaunting your powers,” Jim chided as if he hadn’t heard Blair’s objection.

Blair frowned. “I’m not flaunting them.”

“You know what would happen if the government ever heard--”

“No one saw anything, Jim. I swear.”

Jim grunted unhappily, but decided to let it go.

“You know, you’re cute when you’re worried.”

“Oh shut up.”

“No, really. You are. You remind me of...who was that handsome anthropologist who was always worrying about a certain Cascadian sentinel?”

“You really are a pain, you know that?”

Blair chuckled wickedly.

Jim put the truck into drive. “There’s hot chocolate in the thermos.”

“Oh man, you’re just the best.”

Jim tried really hard not to roll his gaze in exasperation. He didn’t remember Incacha being this difficult. Or had he somehow managed to block out all the things the Peruvian shaman used to do which drove him crazy? Jim sighed softly. Sometimes repression was a wonderful thing.


	4. Fireside

“This is the life, man.” Blair released a happy sigh as he snuggled deeper into his sleeping bag.

The Washington sky above them was unusually cloudless and the night was bright with stars. The weather was cool, but not too cold. There was a nip in the air that chilled the tip of his nose and made lying in his roll comfortable, but he knew it wouldn’t get any colder. It was as if Mother Nature had arranged the perfect evening for their last day of camping for the season.

Simon leaned back against a log, looking content. The fish they had grilled had been perfect and the three of them had had more than their fill.

Jim’s eyes were closed and Blair liked to think he was communing with nature, a sentinel in his natural habitat.

The river gurgled softly beside them. Blair could hear the wind play ever so gently through the branches at the very top of the trees, but given their position they weren’t in any danger of catching a cold draft.

“You should poke the fire.”

It took Blair a moment to realize Jim had spoken.

Blair was too comfortable to move. “You’re closer.”

Jim snorted once in amusement and opened an eye. His head shake clearly conveyed the thought that Blair was an idiot.

“Oh,” Blair meeped.

He chuckled once and waved a hand toward the fire.

Simon let out a much put upon sigh. “Do you have to do that?”

“You could always poke the fire,” Blair countered.

“I can’t move.”

“Neither can I.”

Simon sighed again. “Okay, but just this once.”

Blair looked at his sentinel and they shared a grin. Being a shaman definitely had a few perks. Needling their captain was just an added benefit.


End file.
